Vignettes
by EmmyAngel
Summary: A series of oneshots inspired by the question, What if?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Greetings, y'all! I'm taking the coward's way out and testing the waters with these mini-stories before I get my butt in gear and startone full-out. (Partly because I suspect I suffer from Mary Sue-itis. _EEKK!_) Some tales will have titles. Some - like this one - will not. As I already have several in the bin, I figure I'm gonna update bi-weekly. Feel free to ask questions, flame, or hose me when something doesn't sit right. :)

**Disclaimer:** If you recognize it, it ain't mine. That 'bout covers it.

**Vignettes**

They followed the nurse down an almost-cheerful hallway. Sam had taken the initiative, weaseling out whatever information he could. Dean held back, his gaze flitting over everything they passed with a wary distrust.

It didn't matter how friendly they made the atmosphere, he always felt like he was wandering deeper into the cage. And he couldn't help worrying if this was the day the trap would snap closed on him.

He shook his head once. Hard. Then he rolled his shoulders back, trying to regain his usual posture.

Icy claws raked down his spine in retaliation, and he hunched over again.

He hated these places.

The nurse pointed to a door on their left, and Dean took a deep breath.

Time for the plunge.

For most people this would be the moment they had to go down into the creepy basement of an abandoned house, or face an ax murderer. But for a guy who did that and more several times a week, this was infinitely worse . . .

He stopped just inside the doorway, taking it all in.

Sunlight streamed through windows that took up most of the opposite wall, dust motes dancing to a silent tune. It was almost a relief.

Too bad the bars had to ruin the picture.

There were maybe twenty patients in all. Most were sitting to his right, playing games. Reading or being read to. Doing artistic stuff with Play-Do.

"Do you know the muffin man?"

Dean jumped, but somehow managed not to recoil. The man stared at him for a moment, then smiled and gently tapped his own temple. "Ye-es, I know the muffin man . . . Lives on Drury Lane . . ." He wandered off.

Dean wanted to snarl. He wanted to whimper.

He gulped instead.

* * *

"Your partner isn't very comfortable around people."

Sam smirked, resisting the urge to look back toward his brother. "He doesn't know what to do with Innocents."

_Or Innocence._

"What's up, Jen?" The orderly sent Sam a curious glance.

"How's Anna doing today, Bobby?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Not good," he nodded toward the opposite corner, and they turned to see a huddled shape pressing against the wall on the other side of the room. "Y'all probably won't get much out of her today." A patient called to him, and he went back to work.

Sam absently thanked Nurse Jen and started walking to the girl in the corner.

Dean fell into step behind him.

They were maybe two-thirds across the room when she spotted them. Or, rather, spotted Sam.

Her eyes widened. Then slowly crossed and rolled into whites as her head fell back.

She jerked it forward, shook like a wet dog, and grunted something in the negative. But she kept her eyes on Sam.

Her reaction made Dean pause, but Sam didn't seem to notice as he pulled up a chair.

"Anna Sorensson?"

His brusque tone almost made Dean flinch. She only tightened her grip on her knees and shivered harder.

He questioned her for a good twenty minutes, his harshness never easing. She just stared at him, trembling, her knuckles getting whiter. Occasionally she'd shake her head or let out a whimper, but she never answered him. Or really even seemed to hear him.

He finally gave up when she clutched at her ears and tears streaked down her cheeks.

* * *

It was almost surreal, seeing Sammy so pissed. They hadn't expected much of a lead when they came, so there was no reason for him to be disappointed. 

Dean kept an eye on him, ready to catch the chair if he decided to throw it.

"She doesn't know anything."

"Maybe if you hadn't scared the bejesus out of her . . ."

Sam glared at him.

_Imagine that. Me playing the good cop . . .

* * *

_

He moved away from her, and her hands loosened around her ears. Maybe he'd go away, now. Black spots danced in her vision, and she tried to slow her breathing.

_No, no. Can't let them take me now . . ._

She forced herself to stop shivering, her eardrums still pounding with the voices. The screaming . . .

The black spots grew. She felt her eyes cross again, but was too tired to fight them.

_"S-ham . . ."_

* * *

Dean shifted his weight a little, trying to ignore the ice virtually numbing him inside out. They'd leave after he found out about the burr up Sam's ass. 

"_Sam, HELP ME!"_

The brothers turned back in surprise . . . and saw another face trying to morph onto Anna's as she looked up at Sam, her eyes pleading.

"_It won't let me go."_

Her head dropped, and the cold fell away.

"Jessica?" Sam knelt and reached for her.

"Jess -?" Dean grabbed his wrist, barely able to ignore the static _zing_ as skin brushed skin.

If he touched her, he'd destroy her.

Anna peeked up between her knees. Sam broke away and left the room.

* * *

Understanding the problem now, Dean stepped close to her and offered his hand.

With a questioning look, she slid her hand into his – and gasped, a little fog clearing from her eyes.

He gave her a moment to adjust, then knelt beside her; began whispering just past her ear.

Her eyes rolled closed, something akin to hope settling on her face as her body went almost limp in relief.

By the time he sat back, the voices were little more than a distant murmur in her mind.

He stood. Moved to pull away.

Her hands tightened on his. He froze. She rolled his palm up; kissed the center of his hand. A tear fell next to it.

A silent thanks.

His hand slid out of hers. And he went in search of his brother.

* * *

Bobby watched the second cop leave before letting himself relax completely. They always managed to mess up the schedule. And that was always a bad thing in this place. 

Movement caught the corner of his eye. He turned, and his jaw dropped in surprise.

Anna stood and stretched, a glowing smile of pure joy emanating from her face. On impulse, she did a couple pirouettes in celebration, laughing like she was six again.

**The End**

**A/N:** Well, not _the end_ the end. If this, or any future vingette happens to inspireyour muse, you're welcome to go wherever it wills. Just lemme know so I can read 'n hound you over it. ;)


	2. TwiceBurned

Twice-Burned January, 2002 

_Jessica's burning._

"_**NO!"**_

Her own scream woke her. Or maybe it was Annabella's shaking.

She just knew that one moment someone she cared about was being burned alive, and the next she was in bed, bumping heads with her best friend.

"Ow!" Bella sat back, rubbing her forehead.

She hardly noticed the sting.

"Did Little Miss Fortune Teller dream of her Prince meeting a **real** woman?"

"Shut up, Jesse!" Bella snapped.

Alyse, not hearing either, jumped up, grabbed her robe, and raced down to the Sanctuary before her mind was clear enough to think.

She didn't stop until the door banged shut behind her, the sound echoing in the emptiness. A breath later, automatic habit took over. Dipping her fingers in the bowl of Holy Water, she crossed herself. Then went and lit a candle – No. Two. _They need two candles_. – before going to kneel at the altar.

She was still there, idly making invisible doodles on the wood with a finger, when Father Destrey ran across her an hour and a half later.

Needless to say, he was surprised to see her there. But he also knew what that meant. So he knelt opposite her.

"Another dream?" he asked.

She sent him her patented 'ask-me-an-intelligent-question' glance and kept circling.

"Will you tell me?" It all depended on the right question.

And he'd apparently found the key.

Something akin to relief huffed out of her, and she sat up. "A woman . . . young woman . . . I don't know her . . . **_Jessica_**." Alyse shook her head and closed her eyes, trying to make some sense out of it. "I was . . . hovering over her, I think."

"What happened?"

She sat there for a moment. Then with a vague sadness, "She burned."

Silence. But the story wasn't over yet.

"A man was there, but . . . _I was with him_."

Meaning she had even less of a clue about him.

Something whispered out of her subconscious. She perked up. Then froze, staring sightlessly ahead.

"It hasn't happened yet." She blinked; melted just enough to move. "Could God want me to . . . Help her?" She looked up at him hopefully.

_Not 'warn.' Not 'save.' _

'_**Help.'**_

Father Destrey shrugged. "I'm not God or the Dreamer." She wilted and went back to doodling. "What do you think, Alyse?"

She was silent for a good minute or more. Father Destrey shifted, then rose to leave.

"_I have to find her."_ She snorted, then sent him a wry half-smile. "How hard could finding a curly-blond Jessica be?"

**January, 2006**

"Spring's usually the quiet semester, so no one's rented it out yet." Ginger finally managed to unlock/shove the door open, and gestured them inside.

Alyse shivered as she stepped in. She looked around, noting the bare white walls, the empty shelves. The barrenness of it all.

She smelled smoke.

"There was a fire?" She asked mostly to keep them talking. Outsiders got nervous when they didn't know what to do with themselves.

"Yeah. Th'police seem to think Sam started it."

She wandered toward the windows; looked outside. "You don't think he did?"

"No!" Alyse jumped at Cindy's declaration.

"His world revolved around her. We teased him about when he'd pop the question."

"Even helped him shop for engagement rings."

The two paused for a moment of remembrance.

"So they'd settled all the big problems?" Alyse asked, crossing the living area.

Ginger shrugged. "Their biggest problem involved Sam running off for the weekend with a brother he'd hardly ever mentioned."

Cindy smirked. "But she planned to hogtie 'em and give them both an earful when they got back."

A purely feminine grin passed between the three.

Alyse jerked to a stop in the bedroom doorway. It felt so cold she was almost surprised she didn't see her breath. "The fire started here?"

The other two flanked her at the entrance.

"They said it was an electrical short, or something."

"I got the feeling they couldn't come up with a better excuse."

Alyse turned a sardonic look on Cindy. "You really don't trust the authorities, do you?"

Cindy didn't even blink. "There're more things in Heaven and Earth than they bother to believe."

_Amen, Sister_.

They stood there a moment, staring at the white cave, then Alyse huffed and whirled on the girls. "Well, I know the lay of the land, now. I can get started." She plunked her backpack on the floor by the front door and started riffling through its contents. She paused when they didn't leave. "Y'all better get going."

"But don't you need – "

" – Backup, or . . . something?"

_Like an audience?_

Alyse managed to hide a smile. "While I appreciate the thought, inexperienced backup is often more dangerous than none at all." She stood and ushered them out the door.

"But – the door's an automatic lock."

"Then I'll make sure not to close it completely." Alyse said, pulling it to behind her. _What are they, twelve?_ She let them exchange a nervous glance, then said, "Besides, your men are beginning to wonder."

As if on cue, a tinny pop tune started to play. Their eyes widened. Alyse shook her head at them. "Come back at sunset. If I can get anything, I'll have it by then." She shooed them off.

They finally took the hint and shuffled out the building.

Alyse checked both ends of the hallway to make sure it would stay clear, then faced the door again. Playing with the cross under her shirt, she closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, sending a prayer skyward as she settled into a trance.

_Abba Father, You are the One Who cares for all. You are our light in the darkness._

_And we need You. In ways we can rarely voice, we cry out for You._

_Help me, Father. Open my eyes to see the tale needing to be told here. Show me how I may help to heal this place._

A couple minutes later, she opened her eyes and pushed the door open.

_The bright afternoon sunlight had faded to a dark night._

_Alyse stepped into an apartment littered by the life of college students. Warmth suffused the place. She could feel its heartbeat._

_She walked further in, careful not to touch anything as she took in her new surroundings._

_A key scraped into the lock behind her. _

"_Jessica?" A young man came in and dropped his duffle bag on the floor by the door. He tossed his keys on the table._

_**This must be Sam.**_

"_Jessica?" She followed him into the bedroom._

_They both heard the shower running at the same time. She smirked and wandered over to the window as Sam flopped down on the bed. _

_**All's quiet 'til the shower stops.**_

_Alyse watched a man in a leather jacket bound down the steps to his car. He glanced up at her window as he opened his door. He paused._

_And his eyes narrowed on her._

"_**You can see me,"** she whispered._

"_**NO!"** She whirled around – and followed Sam's horrified gaze._

_Flames rolled over the ceiling like water, engulfing the woman pinned there. _

_Alyse felt a hard shiver rake through her as she recognized her dream. She instinctively moved to stand under her, even as Sam kept screaming._

_She vaguely heard something slam on – or through – the front door. _

_Another voice joined Sam's._

"_**Sam!"**_

"_**Dean!"**_

_She sensed more than saw the other man's glance. She waved him on as she continued to stare up._

_He understood her message._

"_**C'mon – Sam, COME ON!"**_

_A third tremor passed through Alyse as she felt the men leave, but her focus went unshaken. **"Jessica."**_

Night turned to day. The clutter of life washed away, surrendering to emptiness once again.

The fire became a column before her.

"_Jessica."_

Flame became woman; she fell to her knees, trembling with cold.

Alyse knelt before her. Whispered the name a third time: "Jessica."

Her head shot up, a terrified grief in her gaze. **_"Sam?"_**

"Dean got him out."

A look of relief crossed her features. She closed her eyes. Twin tears fell and froze on her cheeks.

Alyse shifted a bit, unsure where to go from here.

"How can I help you?"

She shut the trunk lid with a bang, trying to ignore her weariness. A yawn caught her, anyway. Alyse crossed her arms and leaned against her car, ordering herself to enjoy the sunset until Ginger and Cindy showed up.

They promptly rounded the corner, two young men following in their wake. Alyse bit back a sigh as they caught sight of her, and came over.

"Did you see anything?"

"D'you know what happened?"

She ignored their questions. "She was already lost when Sam came home. He didn't start the fire."

That shut them up. Though their mouths hung open.

"I've done what I could to cleanse the place, so there shouldn't be any problems for awhile." She smirked humorlessly. "Jessica's too weak to do much, right now."

"Jess – She's still in there!"

"You couldn't Release her?"

Alyse's shoulders slumped again, and she shook her head. "Only the One Who holds the Key can free her, now."

One of the guys snorted.

She managed not to snarl at him. "I know. It sounds melodramatic," she shrugged a shoulder, "but that's how it is."

An awkward moment of silence. Weight shifted. Glances exchanged. Then each girl pulled out a wad of money.

Alyse waved it away. She didn't take money when she couldn't do anything, and she said as much as she opened the driver side door.

Then paused. And looked up at the window as a vague premonition stirred within.

"Maybe y'all should start a story on campus. About a haunting. And a Pillar of Flame."

She got in and drove away, leaving the college kids to debate in the growing twilight.

The End

5


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